


soft-mouthed, warm

by natehsewell



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, absolute losers in love, no literally just pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:13:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27553654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natehsewell/pseuds/natehsewell
Summary: They’ve been in the library for hours when she finally asks him about the Fae.
Relationships: Female Detective/Nathaniel "Nate" Sewell
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	soft-mouthed, warm

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this for a prompt on tumblr and now we're here......... anyways, absolute losers in love i have nothing else to say. nate's so cute and i would lay down my entire life for him.

They’ve been in the library for hours when she finally asks him about the Fae.

When Winona had been a girl, she’d poured over fairytales like a scholar, finishing large, weighty books snuck in when Rebecca--who’d never much approved of anything to do with magic or faeries or monsters that are not monsters, not really--was nowhere to be found. She memorized the rules--because all fairytales have rules, regulations, protocol to follow or else you make for a terrible heroine--the many different ways a girl’s journey can go awry on her trip down, down, down into the Fae’s realm. 

Her nanny (who only now Winona realizes was likely not as human as she’d first appeared) would not read to her. Her mouth always twisted whenever Winona would balance four, five new books in her arms, disapproving of that library-bound treasure hoard. In the sleepy summer afternoons, when Winona would demand they play girls lost in the woods, hiding from goblin kings, her nanny would take her by the hand: “You don’t know what goblins are, little sparrow. Do not summon them like this, with your wild heart. They will come and stuff their bellies with you.”

So she didn’t look for goblins, or faeries, or quests to go on. If she dreamed of brandishing a sword to win her mother back from a king who gave her three trials and three riddles and three monsters to defeat, then she kept that firmly to herself.

It hadn’t occurred to her that Rebecca would allow supernaturals to circle so close during her childhood, but she supposes it only made sense. What could a human nanny do to protect her from the world Rebecca had entrenched herself in, long before she had the lives of any daughters to consider?

Thinking about it leaves a bitter taste in her mouth, and she drags herself out of her thoughts before she can follow that rabbit hole all the way down. 

“What would you like to know?” Nate obliges, smiling so sweetly. He’s balancing a tome on his knee, her calves settled in his lap; every once in awhile, he runs his hand across the shape of it, working his thumb over her skin. She shivers without fail each time, and no words are exchanged, but the slight quirk of his lip tells her everything she needs to know.

He enjoys it a little too much, and she’s content to let him.

“Anything. Everything.” She replies without hesitation, closing the book in her lap.

“Everything?” He laughs (it’s a lovely sound, soft and warm and consuming, something to sink into, like a warm bath; and she does, she does.) “That would take longer than an afternoon, I’m afraid. There are so many different kinds, for one. And each has their own history, their own abilities, their own traits. There are a thousand different things I could tell you.” A pause then, his face softening even further, if that were possible. “Though from the look on your face, you don’t seem to mind.”

What does she look like to him? Girlish and wide-eyed? She realizes she’s grinning, and she can’t quite work the expression off her face. “I don’t. I told you, this whole…” _world_. “It’s amazing to me.” She says, honesty loosening her tongue without a fight. 

He deserves better than a sharp little joke or false bravado. It’s not like it’s ever lasted very long for her anyway when it comes to him. 

He wields his words like silk ribbons, parting the cracks of her like the pages of a book, and she wants him to. As terrifying as it is comforting.

She can’t quite read the look on his face, but if she were to describe it, she might use the word captivated. Tender. Enchanted, maybe, if she were feeling particularly self-absorbed. His eyes are so dark, dark as black bread and rye in the melty light of the library, and his ever present smile lengthens into something that leaves her chest tight.

His pianist’s fingers hold her calf, the stroking of his thumb stuttering to a stop, something she notes only because the sensation of it buzzes in the back of her mind. And he simply watches, eyes crinkled at the corners.

The moment draws out between them, seconds or minutes, she couldn’t say, but eventually she murmurs, “what?” and the spell between them fizzles--not breaking entirely.

“I’m just admiring you.” Nate says, head tilting a bit to the side. “You always take me by surprise, Nona. I love the way you approach the world.” His hand slides up, rounding her knee. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

A laugh from her then, little more than an exhale, really. Half embarrassed and half wry. “Y’know, we’re dating.” Dating feels like too weak of a word for the electric charge between them, the threads she feels tightening every single day, a pattern she doesn’t want to ever see break. And that’s terrifying too, in its own way. “You don’t have to try and flatter me anymore. I already like you.” 

She’s teasing for the most part (a cord of her own skewed truth runs behind it, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to deny her unsaid wanting, her constant place next to him,) but Nate responds with such raw genuineness it almost hurts. “What you call flattery, I call honesty.” 

Her breathing stumbles as he sets the book in his lap to the side with one hand. The other massages down her leg. He smiles again, shifting so his body faces hers. “I could spend hours listing the many things I adore about you, my darling. But you had a question, and I will do my best to answer.”

And so he does. He starts with the misconceptions. Most Fae don’t have wings, as she should know by now, but a few do. Yes, iron weakens them. Yes, they can glamor humans, though not her; never her. There are so many kinds, so wild and varied and different, it would be a disservice to try and make a generalization about any of them. Some don’t mind humans. Most do. Many have integrated into human society, and many more shift in the quieter, empty corners of the world, where they can leave away, peacefully. A rare faerie has caused quite a bit of trouble for Unit Bravo, though nothing they could not handle.

Winona listens to it all, enraptured, as he tells her all the things she didn’t know and wish she had. (The little girl in her, still in love with fairytales, picks apart everything he says with a careful hand. Tucks the wonders to her chest and grieves for the goblin kings she did not fight, the faeries she did not dance with, even though she knows now that they certainly would’ve eaten her alive.)

They don’t stay still throughout the evening. Sometimes, Nate stands, talking with his hands, not unlike a teacher. Occasionally he sits beside her with a sheet of paper over a book, drawing her family trees of creatures and how they relate to each other, how they differ. She makes a mental note to keep them for later. 

He never quite veers into the territory of how to defeat any of them, something she’s silently grateful for, even if that’s technically why they’re here. Thinking of the many ways everything in his world (her world now too, her mind corrects) can kill her would break the peace that’s weaved through the room.

Now, they both splay out over the overstuffed couch, Nate on his back, his head propped up on the armest where one of his long arms sits tucked beneath him. She’s settled over him like a blanket, only about halfway up his torso so that her cheek rests against his midriff.

Occasionally, he reaches down, his hand sliding over her hair, brushing flyaway curls from her face. If she wasn’t rapt with attention, she could fall asleep here, lulled by the sound of his voice, the low thump of his heart. 

There’s something… bright about him, like this. Though he speaks softly, there’s a filmy, golden quality to it. An excitement that hums along each word, each new piece of information he reveals to her. He loves this, Winona realizes. It’s written all over his face, an unabashed happiness that sits in the cornerstone of his smile, the openness of his features, and it’s beautiful. He’s beautiful.

Even if this wasn’t something she was desperate to learn and pick apart and memorize, it would just be enough to see him like this. To see him unfurl before her, soft-mouthed and warm. 

The uninterrupted stream of his words stops, snapping her out of her momentary distraction. “Am I boring you?” A minor frown curls his brow. She wants to reach up, sooth the indentation away, bring back his open delight. 

“What?” 

One of his legs draws up, cradling her waist between his hips, and her mind blanks for a second. 

“You just haven’t said anything in a while.” He observes, another polite smile smoothing out his features. But it’s not the one she wants. “It’s all right if you are. I’ve been talking your ear off for a while now, haven’t I? I apologize.”

She feels his abdomen tense, as if he’s about to sit up, and she rises to meet him. A quick push of her knees to the couch, and she’s up much higher than before. Not quite nose to nose, but close enough that he leans back to keep a full view of her face. 

“What are you talking about? You’re not boring me.” Winona insists, jutting both hands to the armrest behind him. To compensate for the change in position, she opens her thighs to pin them against his hips, keeping him in place. 

A flash of surprise crosses Nate’s face, and then he relaxes, almost smirking if she didn’t know any better.

“Are you certain?” He reaches up, cupping her jaw in his hand. The gentle touch draws a sigh out of her.

“Yeah, I am. I’m just…” she leans her face into his palm. “ _Admiring_ you.” 

“Oh?” Nate chuckles, “is that so?”

“Mhmm.” She tilts forward, nudging her nose against his. “Nerd.”

Apparently, that’s not what he expected. A sudden bark of laughter tears out of him, his hot breath fanning over her face. Winona laughs in kind, knocking their foreheads together. And then he’s holding her jaw between his hands--gently, always gently--drawing her to him, his nose scrunched up. “ _Nerd?_ ” 

“What? Am I wrong?” She teases. “You’re a total nerd.”

Still, she pauses, checking for a flash of hurt or offense (he’s got another smile she knows, wears it when he’s hurt or wounded or trying to put aside his frustration. Lower than most of his other ones, never reaching his eyes, jaw clenched like he’s keeping something between his teeth. It always hurts to look at.) 

There’s none to be found here, though. He plays at an indulging, tired look. “And is that what you admire about me?”

“Absolutely.” She laughs, wrapping one arm around his neck. “Makes me wanna shove you in a locker or something. Lovingly.”

“ _Lovingly_ shove me in a locker?” 

“You’re right.” She nods, as if he’s pointed out some major flaw in her logic. “You’re too tall for that. Guess I’ll just have to make due with a closet.”

“I see.” He hums, catching her chin between his forefinger and thumb. Winona freezes, inhaling sharply.

Nate’s eyes fall half-mast, staring at her parted lips. “Well, if you had to, I would have no choice but to go along with it. I can’t deny you anything.” He raises his gaze again, meeting hers, expression languid and loose. He looks a bit like a cat with a mouse trapped beneath its paw, and heat flushes up her cheeks. “At the very least, could I persuade you to join me there?”

He bites his lip ever so slightly, drawing his thumb across her own plump bottom lip, and her thoughts stumble to a stop. “Uhh--” 

“I’m sure there’s something I could do to win you over. I can be very persuasive when I want to be.” Nate continues, playing the game she started, and now can’t quite tell if she regrets it.

“I suppose you would be concerned for your reputation, however. Seeing as how I am, ahem… how did you put it? A nerd?” 

She’d laugh if he wasn’t looking at her like she was something to eat. Didn’t see his other hand move, but then it’s at her back, smoothing down her shirt to pick at the hem, waiting for permission to slide beneath. 

“We would have to be very quiet, to not get caught.” 

“Oh my god, Nate.” Winona gasps, finally flustered. She drops her forehead to his chest. Can’t quite take his slanted, heady gaze any longer. 

His chest rumbles with a quiet laugh, pleased with her blushes. 

“Yes, my darling?” He says, trying to pass for innocent, but his honeyed smugness shines through. She groans. Looks up to find him smiling at her adoringly. And maybe a little self-satisfied.

“You’re-- stop that!”

“Stop what?”

“That thing you’re doing. With your face.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he murmurs, and his hand rucks up her shirt, splaying out across the small of her back. It sends shivers up her spine, and Winona arches against the heat of it. “I’m just looking at you. You are so beautiful. Have I told you that yet today?” 

And she’s once again left off-kilter, disarmed and unguarded. “God…” she whispers, not really thinking about it.

“No need for that. Nate will do just fine.” 

He’s going to kill her. Slowly. She’s going to die right here. 

She chokes out, “ _Nathaniel,_ ” trying to sound firm or offended or annoyed, anything other than this. But there’s no time to recover any semblance of a train of thought. His thumb slips under her bra strap, stroking the skin there, not pulling the garment loose. Just enough to be aware. Her thighs tighten on his waist.

“Yes?” He leans up, pressing a soft kiss to her jaw.

“You’re so _annoying_.” She says, and captures his mouth with her own.

He grins into the kiss, unable to help himself, and she can’t either. Once, twice, their lips meet in light, chaste kisses, curved by a smile. Both his palms come to rest on her hips, pulling her close. Winona giggles a little when he pulls away, chases after him, scattering pecks to his chin, his jaw. “Shall I go then?”

“Don’t you dare.” 

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to hmu @dumortainava on tumblr to talk about some emotional support vampires <3


End file.
